


触って、犯して

by packardian



Series: Kuroshitsuji Practice [7]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 14:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1860843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/packardian/pseuds/packardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lips ghosted along the edge of his shoulder and Ciel felt the hair on his skin rise in reaction.  </p><p><i>Touch me. Make me feel something for once. Fill me with feeling.</i> </p><p>Sebastian’s ungloved hand ran up his ribs slowly, the pads of his fingers rubbing gentle circles into his thin chest. </p><p>  <i>Yes, my Lord.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	触って、犯して

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea, I just wanted to write a drabble-y fic and practice writing lemons. The title translates to "Touch me, Violate(?) me." something to that effect, but if I could, I'd rather leave this untitled. I'm going to put this under my Kuro Practice series because, it's more of a writing 'sketch' than an actual work.
> 
> Oh yes, this is very Ciel centric, so it's mainly from his point of view. Sebastian is shrouded in mystery in this fic.

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触って、犯して

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x

 

Lips ghosted along the edge of his shoulder and Ciel felt the hair on his skin rise in reaction.  

 _Touch me. Make me feel something for once. Fill me with feeling._  

Sebastian’s ungloved hand ran up his ribs slowly, the pads of his fingers rubbing gentle circles into his thin chest. 

_Yes, my Lord._

The room was dark. It was always dark. Ciel couldn’t bear to carry on with something like _this_ in the light. It wasn’t shame, exactly. But it wasn’t something Ciel wished to see so plainly. He enjoyed the darkness, blending into it smoothly, taking the Devil’s hand and letting him lead him further into depravity. It didn’t seem right to dance with the Devil in the morning or the afternoon. The witching hour was a much more fitting time to play with fire. After all, a light is only worth the darkness it was enveloped in.  

He sat there kneeling on the mattress, feeling the demon move behind him silently, admiring his form with his mouth and hands. It was almost like a predator sizing up it’s prey, the way the demon sampled his flavour and ripeness. 

He wanted to feel disgust. He wanted to feel the shame that came with doing something as deplorable as this. But none came. Ciel twisted his fingers into the bedsheets, gripping them tightly as a hot mouth closed over the junction between his neck and shoulder.  

“... _Hah.”_

His neck would always be his weakness on so many different levels, Ciel thought to himself dazedly as the demon’s mouth started sucking on a sensitive place, just under his jaw. If he swallowed, he could just feel the delicate beat of his pulse against Sebastian’s seeking tongue. The demon’s teeth weren’t just for show. Though he did his best to retain human features, there were just some things that remained otherworldly. Knowing that those sharp canines could rip into his flesh at any time gave Ciel a sick sense of excitement and he let out a moan, the muscles in his body tightening as he pressed closer to the soft, wet touch, the sharp teeth making small dents in his neck. _Go on, end me. End me if you can._

Ciel tried to remember what it felt like to feel ashamed and disgusted, but how could he when that bloody tongue was tracing senseless wet patterns into his neck, teeth nipping into the side of his jaw with enough force the way he liked it. A hand slipped down his waist to rest on his upper thigh innocently, Ciel glanced down and caught sight of the black markings. 

“ _Ah…”_

He couldn’t stop the jolts of heat that ran rampant around his body, forcing air out his mouth reluctantly. He felt the faustian mark in his eye burn when he eyed the contract on Sebastian’s hand. The contract that bound them together till the end of his eternity, the leash attached to a dog’s collar. Ciel let out a little laugh. 

“ _What’s so funny, my Lord?”_ The soft lilting voice whispered into his ear. Ah, that voice. Ciel squeezed his eyes shut. That deep, rich voice that dripped with toxic sweetness, entwined with the murmurs of a thousand promised delicious sins. A voice that caused the boy to shudder, his knees spreading apart on the bed as he pressed himself down further.  

“ _The thought of being able to tame a demon, don’t you think it’s laughable, Sebastian?”_

 _“It is amusing, yes. But I don’t mind being housebroken by you, Young Master.”_  

_“Come off it. You’re just enjoying the fact that you could crush me at anytime if you so wished.”_

_“Why would I want to do that?”_  

 _“Because you’re a malignant being that enjoys the torment of others?”_  

_“Why would I extinguish the source of my constant amusement, hmm? You are by far… the most… fascinating… little… thing… I’ve ever… desired.”_

_“Ah! That’s…”_  

The faustian mark in his eye pulsed and throbbed as if it had a life of it’s own, behind his closed eyelids. Ciel pressed the heel of his palm into his right eye as if to smother the feeling. This leash that connected them, sometimes it was hard to distinguish who was wearing the collar and who was pulling on the rope. He tipped his head back as _that_ hand cupped his hardness, coming around to stroke him lightly, sending his heart into a frenzy. 

“ _How does it feel to be the Devil’s plaything?_  

Ciel tossed and thrashed as the hand stroked him hard. The Devil’s plaything… deep in the back of his mind, he _knew_ that it was a provocation but he couldn’t help but feel the sting of the comment on his pride. Reduced to nothing but a puppet at the hands of a demon, being played and strung to a sinister beat. Ciel shivered as hot breath warmed his skin, he began to _feel._ He slipped down some more, a small hand coming up to grab a shirt sleeve as he slumped against Sebastian’s chest, watching the devilish hand move on his body languidly. 

“ _I hate this. I hate you so much… hah.”_

Ciel threw an arm over his eyes as he moved his hips upwards, trying to seek greater pleasure. He _knew_ his bottom lip was shaking, he _knew_ that his eyes were becoming damp and there was an undeniable ache in his throat as his body seemed to detach itself from his mind. Since when had he gotten so used to this treatment? To allow the demon to have his way with his body, to do as he pleased? When had he decided to give up control- in exchange for a brief tryst of pleasure? His mouth opened trying to drag in a shaky breath of oxygen to compensate for all that seemed to be leaving his head. 

_What are you doing to me… why do I feel so…_

Ciel’s body burned with heat and unfamiliar feelings he did not wish to confront or acknowledge. His ragged pants were rising an octave higher, much to the demon’s satisfaction. For once he was beginning to feel the shame he strove to feel to begin with and now he felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t intend to come back to the mortal world to feel pleasure, he came back to strike out and lash back in revenge, burning out with a fizzle and spark. He didn’t want to feel pleasure, he wanted the heaviness of deep seated rage and simmering hatred. The grim determination that he intended to dish out his wrath with. He wasn’t meant to melt into someone’s arms, to sweat uncontrollably as sweet moans issued out of his mouth. He wasn’t _allowed_ to feel such pleasure when the hate in his heart was so big. He thought he wouldn’t be able to feel such a thing anymore… and he hated himself for it. He hated himself for becoming addicted to such an act that simultaneously made him feel depraved and _oh_ so fulfilled. 

“ _Ahh, I hate you… I want to hate you...hah…”_

His knees were spreading even wider, opening himself up without his consent. _More…_

A hand was tugging the arm that he’d slung over his face and soon Ciel locked eyes with the demon above him. He tried to yank his arm back but the grip was strong. That damning, handsome face swam blurrily before him. Ciel wanted to swear and choke out obscenities, for inciting such raw need within his slight body. The confusion of indulging in illicit pleasure caused the boy’s mind to cloud over, bottom lip quivering. 

Red eyes bore into mismatched ones. For once, the ever present smirk of satisfaction wasn’t anywhere to be found on Sebastian’s face. If anything, those eyes seemed to be searching the small, young face beneath it. Searching for what? 

 _What do you want!?_  

Ciel’s pink lips parted, his eyes glassy as he gazed back into those coal embers that seemed to read every carnal, impure thought in his mind. Sebastian’s mouth seemed to be moving, whispering words to him that never reached his ears. Ciel came hard as Sebastian pressed his mouth to the palm of his small hand, and tears spilled over his cheeks as he let out choked sobs, feeling his body jerk and writhe into the sinful hand that had grasped him in his entirety. 

He lay motionless on his side as Sebastian pulled the covers up around his form. He’d done it again, when he swore he wouldn’t. Deep down inside, he knew that if he really hadn’t wanted it, they wouldn’t have progressed as far as they did. A well of feelings struggled to bring themselves to light and the Phantomhive quashed them down violently, refusing to admit any of them. Ciel turned over to face his butler, watching his straighten out his shirt and put on his black jacket.   

“I hope I’ve managed to fulfill your orders to your _satisfaction._ ” Sebastian murmured, eyes glittering with hidden amusement, as he patted down his jacket.  

Ciel contemplated over which vitriolic comment he could retort with but his boneless body deemed any extra effort apart from lying in bed as unecessary. 

“Sebastian,” His voice muffled by the pillow. 

“Yes, my Lord?”  

“Stay till I fall asleep.” With that order, he pulled the covers over his head, heart pounding against his chest. Ciel was never one for cuddling after intimacy, but the thought of being alone and empty for the rest of the night didn’t sit well with him. He knew demons couldn’t love… and he could hardly bring himself to love a demon, but as it was (and he hated to admit), Sebastian was the closest, most treasured possession he had. He was his trump card, and he would continue to treat him as so.   

The irony that an emotionless being could evoke such strong feelings within him when nothing else could, didn’t escape the boy.  

Ciel fell asleep with a humourless smile on his face. 

 _fin._  


End file.
